Musings · Uncategorized

Are you there, God? It’s Me, Melissa

Faith 9-21-17

Faith…probably one of the most talked about, and argued about, subjects. Well, no, that’s religion but sometimes faith and religion come in a package deal.

For some, faith is going to Church regularly. For others, it’s just talking to God (or whoever you might believe in) when you get a chance. I know my mother shows faith by saying the Novena for St. Theresa, her patron saint. She’s been praying to St. Theresa for as long as I can remember.

Faith and praying have always been very prevalent in my family, especially since I was born ill. My mother spent hours, days, weeks, and months praying for my health and praying that I lived long enough to have a life to live. I was brought up going to religious ed and I said prayers every night before I went to bed. To this day, when we sit down at my Mother’s house as a family, we say our dinner prayer.

But, I’m a little ashamed to say that my own faith has been weak at best. My whole life I’ve heard “God has a plan for you” and “Everything happens for a reason”. Growing up, I was told that there was a bigger purpose for me. That my disability and my surgeries were making me strong and shaping me in a way I didn’t know yet. I “had” to go through these difficulties because I wouldn’t be the person I am today without them.

Or at least I was told something along those lines. I was always told to have faith that things will be okay and the trust in God that he knew what he was doing. That He was going help me get to where I needed to go.

I believed that, one because my mother told me it and, two because I was so sick that I needed something to believe in. I wanted to believe that it was going to be okay and that I was made this way for a reason. I even had invisible friend/guardian angel, Michael (Ironically enough there was an actual archangel named Michael that I didn’t know about) that watched over me.

So, my whole life I was brought up to have faith. To believe that it would all be okay in the end.

Where did my faith go then, you ask?

It disappeared when I was twenty-four years old and found out I couldn’t have children. In fact, i could die if I tried to have children. The moment the words were out of my Doctor’s mouth is the same moment that my faith fell, shattering around me.

I thought, back then, if I had to trust in God to get me through, why was he so cruel to take away the one thing I wanted the most: A family. My family. Anything else I could’ve dealt with; I could’ve fought against. But this?

All I ever wanted was a family. I wanted a man who loved me despite my medical flaws, and children that I could love. I always pictured having a child, or two, and being a normal family despite everything. Graduating from college, getting a job, and having a family were my milestones: If I could get through everything and have that, I would be okay. I would make it.

And that dream, that wish I so desperately had, was ripped away from me and I hated God for it. I was so angry that he put me through hell my whole life, and then made it worse by not allowing me to have a family.

I hated him, and I hated my parents who knew all along that this could happen. I even hated my husband for sticking around even though I basically threw him out the door. I told him to find a woman who could give him a family, like he deserved.

For the four months from when I found out about my predicament, to when I had surgery to tie my tubes so I couldn’t accidentally get pregnant, I cried myself to sleep. I fell into a depression that I struggled to get out of.

And, like I said, I was angry. So, so angry. I didn’t stop believing in God, but i definitely stopped believing that he knew what was right for me. I stopped having faith that things would work out.

Even five years later, my Faith hasn’t come back. I don’t say my nightly prayers anymore and I can’t step into a Church. The last time I stepped into a Church, I think, was for my wedding. And that’s because it’s a family tradition to marry in a Church.

It’s hard to have Faith when everything seems to be falling down around you. When your dreams are extinguished and you don’t know where to go from there.

I would love to get my Faith back, trust me I would. I want to believe that everything is going to work out and it will be okay in the end. I would love to believe that there is a bigger force guiding me and protecting me. I would love to go to Church again.

I just…can’t.

book review · Uncategorized

Book Review: Carolina Isle

carolina isleSummary

Ariel and Sara never imagined their high-spirited attempt to step into each other’s shoes would cause such upheaval. The lifelong pen pals, who look exactly alike, meet for the first time in their twenties and embark on a daring adventure of changing identities. Southern belle Ariel is determined to win the heart of a man who doesn’t know she exists, while Sara yearns to leave behind her hardscrabble existence and taste the good life that fate has denied her. But in pretty Arundel, North Carolina, nothing is as it seems—including the dangers that are closing in on their new dream lives, as the deepest of fears and darkest of secrets and betrayals come to light. 

In My Opinion…

Caution, this may contain spoilers!

I had high hopes for this book. The summary seemed pretty awesome and the cover was pretty. I picked this up at a garage sale (or was it a thrift store?) and had to add it to my collection. I started reading this book at the beginning of last week and finished it by the end of it.

I was completely disappointed.

I hate writing book reviews on books I didn’t like because, as an author, I know how it feels to put all your heart and soul into it. I never want to knock down another author, but I promised myself that I would write a the most honest book review that I could.

Based on the summary, it seemed like the cousins were going to trade places and, because of that, there are misconceptions and misadventures. And then, through that, they learn a little bit about each other and about themselves. I thought it was going to be a happy, heartwarming story.

This was not what happened.

First of all, I can’t believe that two cousins would look so much alike that they could be mistaken for each other. I just don’t think it’s possible.

Second of all, the whole “switching places” thing lasted for, maybe, thirty or forty pages. That’s it. They are found out and nothing happened.

Then there’s the whole part of the story where they go to the Island and everything gets messed up. It’s like a Silent Hill type thing, sort of. The island is creepy and everyone is against the “outsiders.” So much so, that they actually put them in jail, and then trying to frame them for a murder (after they’re let out of jail)

Okay, I could’ve gotten through that. I was interested in what secrets and betrayal was out there…what they were going to find out about each other.

But the secrets and betrayal? Had nothing to do with the four main characters. In fact, the secrets and betrayals had to do with the people who lived on the island. And it had barely anything to do with the main characters.

Another problem I had with this story is how the author kind of glosses over parts. Stories like this, you have to delve into the story, use lots of details and stuff. This story…nada. Nothing. In fact, huge parts are just never hit on. And the suspense at the ending? Weak at best. There was supposed to be some what of a build up…some tension, and then the explosive conclusion.

That’s what I thought it would be…

Turns out, I was wrong again. There was just about no tension as we got closer to the end. And then the explosive conclusion? Not there. It was just like Ariel (the rich cousin) found the treasure and that was it. Done. Finished. The epilogue takes place a year later.

All in all, if I didn’t get this at a garage sale I probably would’ve been upset about it. I’m not sure if I will read another book by this author, but I’d like to think that I would give the author another chance.

Until next time…happy reading!

The Adventures of the Mr. and Mrs. · Uncategorized

That Moment When…I became a Ghoul

So the other day my hubby came up to me and said “hey, I applied to be an actor at Schmitt’s Farm, the Haunt, do you want to come with me to check it out?”

Truthfully, my first answer was no. It was after work and I was tired, but I knew he wanted me to go with him. So, being a good wife, I went.

First of all, when we got there, the parking lot was empty and it really looked like someone was going to come kill us as we waited. In fact, another person who was there to try out, came up to the car and I almost screamed. He looked creepy and he came right up to the door.

So not where I wanted to be.

We hung out in the parking lot as people trickled in and finally the event opened. The owners/actors brought us to the back where the Haunted House was and we sat down to listen to the spiel.

Then they let us act. Now, I have to tell you, I’m not an actress. At all. And I never wanted to be. But everyone else was trying out so I figured, what the hell. Why not. I was there anyway.

The first “room” they put me in was the bug room. There were spider webs all across the wall and they just put me there. No instruction, no advice. Nothing. I ended up pretending to be crazy and started screaming about “the bugs, the bugs!” I said there were bugs in my hair and slithering into my brain. I ran up to people and asked if they could see the bugs on my body and in my hair.

I might’ve actually scared a few people. The owner liked my first “audition” so he moved me into a room full of clocks. Just clocks and a strobe light.

This one was harder.

I don’t know what I said to them, something about tick-tock and “he’s coming to get you.” Or at least I think I said something like that. I don’t really remember. It wasn’t as good as the last time but it was alright. They were happy with it.

P.S., everyone got a part. Even me. I didn’t expect to get a part, and a little bit of me didn’t want a part either. It’s not that I didn’t want to do this with the husband, I love doing things with him, but this Haunt…this ghoul thing wasn’t really my idea of a super fun time. I get nervous around people and I always feel like they’re laughing at me.

It didn’t help any that the “veteran” actors didn’t even bother to try to be scared. If anything, they mocked us.

But, in general, I’ll admit that I kind of had fun. It was something outside of my wheel house and the hubby LOVED auditioning. He is ECSTATIC to get a part. He hasn’t stopped talking about it since we left there (which, by the way, was all weekend)

So, I’m a ghoul. I get paid minimum wage for a few hours Thursday through Sunday. It’s a little extra spending money and it’s something that I can do with my husband. Something we can enjoy together.

They haven’t given us our “assignments” yet, but I really hope they make me the crazy girl. I would be an awesome crazy girl.

I don’t even have to act!

memories · Uncategorized

Best Friends Forever…or Not…

Today I want to talk about Regrets…

Regrets

There’s a lot of things that I regret in my life. I regret dating and ex-boyfriend who did nothing but make me feel like shit, and I regret every short haircut I got that I thought looked good on me.

One of my biggest regrets, though, is losing a friendship with a boy, L. We were friends for years, from the age of eight up until three years ago. At first we were casual friends, seeing each other in religious ed once a week. Then in middle school, I was friends with him because he was friends with my boyfriend at the time. L was always kind of there, around and easy to talk to. We started talking on AOL/AIM, talking about nothing and yet everything.

He really got me, more than anyone else, because he was disabled too. He had Cerebral Palsy and walked differently. He understood what it was like to be different in a school that judged everyone.

That’s what drove me to him, and sent me running away too.

Our friendship became shaky when we were fourteen/fifteen and he told me he liked me. I didn’t like him like that and no matter what, he didn’t take no for an answer. For years were only talked now and then because whenever we talked, he would ask me our tell me he liked me. It was a lot for a fifteen year old, especially since I didn’t like him like that.

I was also scared of dating another disabled person because, at fifteen, all I wanted to do was be normal. I didn’t want any more attention on me. I’m completely ashamed of how I acted and thought, but at fifteen, I didn’t exactly have the brightest brain or strongest confidence in myself.

A few years later, though, we became inseparable. I don’t know how it happened, but one day I went over to his house to hang out and we were watching sports (football maybe?) I knew nothing about it and I had to ask him question after question. He didn’t mind, though, and answered every question that I had until I understood football enough to watch the game.

From then on, he and I hung out all weekend, every weekend. We would walk around our neighborhood, talking and joking. I would ask him boy advice and he would ask me girl advice. We became best friends. There was nothing that I didn’t tell him and nothing that he didn’t know about me. He became my confidant, my support, and everything I ever needed in a friend.

We ended up going to the same college together so our friendship became stronger in the four years we were at school together. He was there for me when I was crying over my ex-boyfriend, holding me and telling me everything out be okay.

But that all changed the moment I met my husband, A. Truthfully, I should’ve known that there was going to be a problem. Though L claimed not to have feelings for me anymore, he didn’t act like that. But I brushed it off because we were close…best friends cuddled and stuff so I didn’t think too much of it.

When I started dating A, things with L got a little tense. He didn’t want to hang out a lot, and he sure as hell didn’t want to hang out when A was around. He didn’t want to get to know A, and always seemed upset when I talked about A.

As the years went on, our friendship dwindled down to almost nothing. I would text him, but get no response. Walk to his house, but he was never around, and a few times I saw him turn around before he passed my house on his daily walk. I was desperate to hang on to him but he was fine with letting me go.

Our breaking point was three years ago, when I got married. L already declined the offer to be a groomsman, which caused us not to talk for a few months, but then he declined even coming to my wedding.

I was crushed. When I approached him about it, he said it was because we weren’t really friends anymore, and that he would feel uncomfortable there. Though he didn’t say it, I knew it was because I was marrying someone who wasn’t him. He still had feelings for me and the fact that I was getting married was the nail in the coffin: he knew I would never date him.

That night, as I said hello to one new relationship in my life, I said goodbye to another one. One that was so strong that I still haven’t completely gotten over.

I know I did everything I could to keep the friendship alive. I tried to keep contact with him, tried to see what he was up to. But He never wanted to keep ties with me. After our confrontation about the wedding (which, I’ll admit, I accused him of still being into me – and he denied it, of course) things were never the same. We were not the same.

I regret losing that friendship because it meant a lot to me. L saw me through some of the roughest times and I wish he could be here for the better times. I wish I could still confide in him and lean on him. I want to tell him what’s going on, how everything has changed. I want him part of my life so bad that I wouldn’t mind forgetting everything that happened. I wouldn’t mind starting over.

But he made his decision and I have to live with that.